


til death do us part

by aslanjades



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Curses, Halloween, M/M, Short Story, Skeletons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aslanjades/pseuds/aslanjades
Summary: Ash has never been in love. It’s a simple, though sad fact—the feeling of true affection is rather unfamiliar to him. Due to his chilled heart, he’s cursed by a mysterious boy and given a simple objective that will break it immediately: make someone fall in love with him. However, that’s easier said than done. Until then, he’s slowly becoming a skeleton, and if he fails to complete the task by Halloween night, he’ll die.After meeting Eiji Okumura at a party, Ash attempts to do what he believes is impossible—make Eiji fall for him.It doesn’t exactly help that time dwindles quickly, secrets can’t stay hidden forever, and love can’t be forced. This can get complicated.





	1. OCTOBER 1st.

**ASH’S SKIN WAS PALING,** and it was becoming more and more noticeable.

His skin was already pale enough, but as he stood in the mirror, it looked ghastly, an unhealthy white. It had begun to cling to his bones; not so much that he appeared worryingly thin, but enough that it couldn’t be mistaken as him simply having prominent cheekbones and a strong jaw. He was just beginning to straddle the line between dead and alive, human and skeleton, but no one knew but himself.

It started out being barely noticeable, a thinning that happened over days and eventually accumulated to ten pounds being lost over a bit more than a week. He told anyone who asked that it was just a passing sickness, and luckily, no one who was bold enough to ask why the weight was lost was bold enough to question why he hadn’t gained it back after the sickness did pass. Everyone who knew him was aware that Ash knew what he was doing and it was better not to ask, regardless of what the matter was.

They’d probably be shocked if he admitted that he was more lost than he’d ever been.

He could cover up the weight loss, but his skin and flesh vanishing to reveal bone was another story. There was no lying his way out of this one, no matter how hard he tried.

As he looked down at his hands, at the bone where his fingertips were just the night before, he let out a sigh, then averted his gaze to the white gloves next to it. For tonight, he had a cover-up. The gloves were a bit over-the-top—the tux he had on was formal enough—but it was better than showcasing his skeleton fingers to a bunch of rich people. He was looking for love, not the opportunity to terrify everyone he encountered. So, though he wasn’t too fond of them, he tugged on the gloves, flexing his hands to adjust to the leather.

The party was across town, supposedly an event for some guy with ties to the mafia. Ash wasn’t paying attention when Dino explained; he never was. He only picked out basics of why the party was being held, an address, and an objective: be Dino’s eyes and ears. To Ash, that translated to show up, roam for a bit, and give Dino a lousy report when he asked. It would make the old man unhappy, sure, but Ash never cared about Dino’s feelings, just as Dino never cared for Ash’s.

Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind his ear, he grabbed the keys to the Maserati that sat in the garage, opened the bathroom door, and flicked out the light. The walls of the mansion’s hallways felt confining, and for a moment, he thought it was good for him to be getting out. The reason he was going out was the reason he felt he couldn’t stay inside, but at least Ash wouldn’t have to be in Dino’s presence for a while.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

When he entered the garage, the red Maserati sat in the space he’d left it when he’d driven it last. It was a gift from Dino, which made Ash hate it regardless of the flawless paint or tinyed windows. But though he despised it, it was his only method of transportation unless he wanted to be driven around by one of the old man’s lackeys, and Ash would rather die than let one of those lowlives serve as his chauffeur.

He climbed in the car and, upon starting it, the radio began to play. The soft sound, thankfully, prevented his thoughts from getting too loud, but they still weren’t exactly quiet, not even when he pulled onto the road and rolled down the window to add more noise.

He had thirty days.

It had been two weeks since the long-haired boy in his dreams told Ash that his heart had grown cold, too cold to be human, and gave Ash until Halloween night to make someone love him—not the toxic love Dino claimed to have for him, but a real, passionate love—or he would fade into nothingness, a fate equivalent to death. Ash didn’t believe it at first, but as soon as bone began to show on his fingertips, he knew for sure.

Some curse had been put on him, and he someone had to fall in love with him to break it.

Of course, that was easier said than done. The curse couldn’t be broken by him falling in love—the boy claimed that a heartbreak due to unrequited love was just as painful, if not more, than lacking love completely—not that Ash could see himself falling in love anyway. He’d gone eighteen years without doing so, so it was doubtful that someone would be able to steal his heart within a month and a half. And it was just as doubtful that someone could love him, almost unfathomable.

Regardless of how impossible it seemed, though, he was going to search for that love. A party thrown by someone with ties to Dino was definitely the worst place to go looking for it, but it was a start. An awful one, but a start nonetheless.

When Ash pulled up outside the hall and stopped his car, he found himself nervously tapping the steering wheel. He didn’t have to find anyone tonight, but it was the most desirable option. It would give him the most time, which happened to be the last thing on his side, so the more he had, the better. Before opening the car door, he said a silent prayer to no one in particular that among the sea of pretentious rich people, there was someone a bit less shallow, someone capable of seeing something worth loving in him.

With that, he got out of the car and locked it, twirling the keychain around his index finger. As he headed towards the entrance, he slipped his leather-clad hands into the pockets of his pants and gave a curt nod to the doorman, his eyes already scanning the crowd of people in the hall. As soon as Ash walked in, he moved to the side to see as much of the room as he could, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter in the process.

He could see a few people with cameras around their necks, and others with pens and notepads in their hands. The media was there, so whatever the party was for must have been a pretty big deal. He still wasn’t interested enough to find out the exact purpose, but the media being in attendance was something of use Ash could report back to Dino if he felt like it when he was approached. He likely wouldn’t, as Dino’s presence always managed to sour his mood.

Taking a sip from his champagne, Ash began to stroll into the crowd, analyzing the people he passed. When he passed, some of the attendees nodded or smiled, scanning him as he did them. Ash returned the gestures, but the kindness on his face washed away as soon as he turned his head. Everyone looked too . . . in place. Their chins were raised, ties straight, jewels dazzling. The arrogance practically radiated off them, and it made Ash scowl. Already, things weren’t looking promising.

Until the music slowed, and Ash laid eyes on the most lost person in the room.

Clearly, he didn’t belong there. The tux fit him nicely, but it seemed to wear him rather than the other way around. He looked around as if he’d lost sight of someone and was trying to find them again, and when the music slowed and the partygoers found partners and began to slowly and steadily dance, the frantic searching only intensified.

At the sight, Ash took a pen from the inner pocket of his tux and pulled the cap off with his teeth, taking the handkerchief from another pocket. Quickly, he scrawled a few digits and numbers onto the fabric, then placed the handkerchief and pen into their respective pockets and crossed the room, setting the still nearly full glass of champagne on the tray of a passing waiter and taking a deep breath.

_Please let this work._

He stopped in front of the dark-haired boy, extending a hand. When he looked up at Ash, then down at the hand being held out, he froze, eyes going wide.

“You seem to be missing a partner, which is convenient since I am too. I swear I don’t bite, even though you’re looking at me like I do.”

At Ash’s words, the boy flushed and took the hand extended towards him. Ash pulled them closer to the center of the floor, guiding his partner’s free hand to rest on his shoulder and placing his own hand around at the small of the shorter boy’s back.

“I’m Ash.” Ash’s words were soft, shared as if it were a secret and barely heard over the music. He began to sway back and forth, and the body close to his own followed the motion. What they were doing was a lousy excuse for slow dancing, but it still managed to excite Ash. Maybe, just maybe, his flustered dance partner was who he was looking for.

“I’m Eiji,” the smaller boy responded, looking at the couples around over his shoulder.

“Eiji,” Ash repeated, making the name sound like poetry as it fell from his lips. Eiji turned back towards Ash and smiled in the slightest. Ash smiled back, going on, “you’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

Eiji shrugged. “Not really. I’m working as a photographer’s assistant. I was told to mingle as he takes photos. This,” he lifts his hand from Ash’s shoulder to gesture around him, “isn’t exactly what I’m used to. Could you tell?”

“Hardly,” Ash lied. His eyes scanned over Eiji, and he noted his round face and soft features. He looked young and innocent, which Ash was sure contributed to Eiji seeming like a fish out of water among the aged partygoers. Catching Eiji’s accented English, Ash asks, “Where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m from Japan. I’m going back at the end of next month.”

The end of next month. Meaning if Ash chose to try to make Eiji be the one to break the curse, he had time. Maybe he went looking in the wrong place, but it seemed that he’d found the right person.

As the piano in the song slowed to signify the ending, Ash longingly sighed. “Japan, huh? I’d love to hear more.”

Eiji opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the song came to an end and those on the dance floor stepped out of their position and clapped for the pianist at the front corner of the room. Ash stepped back and politely bowed, pulling the deep green handkerchief from the pocket it rested in and placing it in Eiji’s hand, using his own to make Eiji clasp the fabric tightly in his hand.

“What—”

“Goodnight, Eiji.”

Ash turned and slipped through the crowd, blending in with the group of people heading away from the dance floor. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Eiji looking for him, then looking down at the handkerchief. After his effort to find his former partner failed, Eiji tucked the fabric into his pocket and began walking away from the spot where he stood moments ago. While Ash stared, Eiji’s hand never left his pocket.

Ash let out a sigh of relief as he walked through the double doors and back to his car. As soon as he sat down, Ash took off the gloves, tossed them onto the passenger’s seat, and shut the door. The whole time, his eyes lingered on the tips of his fingers. Upturning his hand, he tapped the bone against the glove compartment.

_It’s your turn. Make your move, Eiji._


	2. OCTOBER 5th.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash impulsively calls a day with Eiji a date, Eiji can’t quite decipher him, and time is winding down.

**ASH WAITED FOUR DAYS FOR EIJI TO CALL.**

Really, he was starting to think that Eiji wouldn’t reach out at all and he would be forced to find someone else to break the curse, which was the last thing he wanted. It was hard to pinpoint what it was, but Eiji seemed . . . different. Like his heart was pure. It was a bold conclusion to draw from a three minute long dance, but it was a flicker of hope, and it’d been a long, long time since Ash had seen that in a human being.

Ash sat in his bedroom with the door locked, a pointless measure since Dino had a key. He twirled a pen between his fingers (this wasn’t as easy as usual, as they were now fully bone) to pass the time, his phone resting upside down a few inches away from him.

He’d never been so bored.

It was understandable that his heart was freezing over considering that he hated every waking moment in the mansion he was confined in, despised the people and the falsified sense of care they showed towards him. The cold truth was that Dino only made sure his pawns didn’t treat him however they wanted because broken toys were no fun to play with.

Either love was a myth, or everyone around him had an incredibly warped perception of it. To him, both were equally likely.

Ash fell back on the duvet, eyes on the ceiling. Twenty-seven days now. A mere four weeks to convince someone that he was worth loving. When the thought sunk in, he came to a conclusion: it was impossible.

Then, his phone rang. 

The first ring made his eyebrows furrow, but by the second, the phone was pressed against his ear and his mouth was already forming the name that had been lingering in the back of his mind for days: “Eiji.”

“How . . . how did you know it was me?” 

“Wishful thinking,” Ash responded, prompting an awkward silence fell between the two. As the line went quiet, Ash looked at his hand, at the white bone that glared back at him. Eiji had done his part; Ash needed to keep the ball rolling.

“Ash—“

“May I ask what you’re doing today?”

“Um . . .“ Ash sat up and impatiently tapped his foot as he listened to Eiji steadily breathe while he pondered. Finally, Eiji said, “Nothing, really. Why?”

“Have you seen Central Park?”

“No . . .” There was a questioning tone to his voice, his confusion seeping through the line. He was rightfully puzzled by the conversation; Ash’s responses were spontaneous, nothing like him at all. His words almost confused him despite stemming from his own mind.

Ash took in a breath, thinking _I’m really doing this_ , and asked, “Can I show you?”

There was a short pause, then Eiji’s voice filled Ash’s ears again. “Right now?”

“Right now,” the blonde confirmed. He found himself gnawing on his bottom lip as he waited for a response, hoping that Eiji would spend the time with him. It wasn’t like Ash to wish to be with someone so desperately, but he needed this. It was a life or death matter, and though the thought wasn’t unfamiliar, he never truly wanted to die. Not once.

“Okay. That sounds good.”

“Good,” Ash managed, the word coming out breathy as he sighed of relief. Then, completely on impulse and even though it was a bold move, he added, “It’s a date.”

“Wait, what—“

“See you later, Eiji.”

The second the words left his mouth, Ash hung up.

_What the hell?_

He’d never been on a date, never really imagined one since he hadn’t ever come across anyone he wanted to imagine going on a date with. He wasn’t even sure he exactly knew what he was doing, but progress was progress, and it was probably in his best interest to, at the very least, try not to scare Eiji away. 

He took a thin coat from his closet and grabbed the keys to the Maserati and the pair of gloves that lied next to them. As he left the room, there was one thing we was absolutely certain of: this curse would be the death of him.

* * *

Surprisingly, it was easier to find Eiji than Ash expected it to be.

As soon as Ash entered the gate on 102nd Street, he saw the brunette with a camera in hand. He looked into the viewfinder, finger hovering over the shutter button and lens aimed at the flowers to the side of the pathway. As he focused, passerbys moved around him, most being polite enough to not walk in front of a camera.

Watching Eiji shoot was like watching the subject of a broken timelapse, the world around him shifting but Eiji staying still.

When Eiji hit the shutter button a few times and looked down at the display screen, Ash stepped forward, saying, “You look exactly like a tourist.” 

Ash’s voice made Eiji jump, almost losing balance in his crouched position. Ash wanted to reach out to make sure Eiji didn’t fall, but the gloves he wore served as a reminder not to. If he could, he needed to keep his hands shoved away for as long as possible to avoid any questions he couldn’t answer. So he slipped them into his pockets, and luckily, Eiji caught his balance before he could tumble to the ground.

Clutching his camera, he turned to Ash and furrowed his eyebrows, the slight shift in his face making him look youthful and curious. “I look like . . . “

“Like a tourist, yes.”

Ash started walking along the path carved out along the roses and anemones, Eiji cautiously standing and following. Though he surely wasn’t trying to, he seemed wary. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ash—Ash knew what a lack of trust looked like, and it wasn’t that. It seemed to be that Eiji didn’t quite understand him, which made sense, considering the fact that Ash’s signals lately had been pretty unclear. He was racing with time, and that didn’t exactly permit him to calculate how to send the perfect signals to make Eiji perfectly understand him and fall head over heels at the snap of a finger. 

Eiji’s wariness made his feet slowly come to a halt, and Ash’s followed. He turned around to face Eiji and raised an eyebrow, watching as Eiji’s soft brown eyes scanned over him in a way that resembled an interrogation, but silent.

“Why did you ask me to come here?”

“I told you,” Ash said, voice steady. His skeleton hands were like weights in his pockets as the half-truth, half-lie fell effortlessly from his mouth, “I’m just showing you around.”

“Yes, but you called it a—“

“A date?”

“ _That_ ,” Eiji confirmed. He looked around as if trying to find the words he wanted to say in the air, pull them down, and offer them to Ash. “And it’s confusing. You’re really confusing, Ash.”

“Just call it what you want to, Eiji.” Ash’s words yielded no response from Eiji; just a fixed glance. Ash stared right back, gaze matching Eiji’s intensity, until Eiji broke it and his shoulders slumped a nearly unnoticeable amount in surrender. Ash continued, “Call it us getting to know each other. Call it me giving you a tour as a real New Yorker and not one of those lousy tour guides who try to scam you out of your money. The ‘d’ word was never even mentioned.”

Eiji blinked at Ash, digesting the words. And finally, he picked his feet up off the ground and began to walk again. He was still hesitant, but he didn’t seem _as_ hesitant, which was a good sign.

However, when he caught up with Ash, his gait slowed again. This time, Ash pretended he didn’t notice, the returned caution going unnoticed until Eiji spoke.

“You’re wearing gloves again.”

With that, the corner of Ash’s mouth quirked up in the slightest. Truthfully, he was impressed that Eiji caught that so quickly. His words weren’t an observation, but rather a question. He was wondering why—it was just over sixty degrees in New York. Ash should have been melting in a light coat and gloves.

“I’m always cold, that’s all.”

Ash’s response satisfied Eiji enough, as he stopped staring and turned his attention back to the garden around them. For a few minutes, they walked without speaking, the chatter of the people walking past preventing a complete silence from falling around them.

“I meant it when I said I wanted to hear more about Japan.” Ash broke the silence, green eyes wandering over to Eiji. Eiji smiled a bit at the mention of his home, seeming to slightly relax. At least, his guard wasn’t as high as it was before.

“Oh? Um, I’m from a city called Izumo . . . ” Eiji started, his eyes glowing as he talked about his home, his sister, the language, and anything else that came to mind. It was endearing to hear him speak so fondly, to hear the longing in his voice.

More than anything, it was relieving that he’d gotten past his suspicion enough to share it with Ash, another small piece of progress. Whether that piece of progress was big enough to matter was debatable—Ash was almost a week into October and all he had to contribute to the breaking of the curse was a quick dance and enough trust from Eiji for them to have a decent conversation. Objectively, both were too insignificant to hold any real meaning.

Time was ticking, and already, Ash was falling behind. As Eiji spoke, Ash could only hope that if love was real and if it was possible, Eiji could love him a fraction of how much he clearly loved his hometown. That would be enough. 


	3. OCTOBER 18th.

**THE CAFÉ WAS WARM—A BIT TOO WARM FOR ASH’S LIKING.**

It was rather hard for Ash to be comfortable temperature-wise lately, considering the fact that the skin and flesh on his limbs were vanishing as if they’d never been there at all. So, when it was cold, Ash felt the chill to his bones, and when it was hot, it was searing. The café was some strange middleground—not exactly cold, but not exactly scalding. 

It was incredibly uncomfortable, yet Ash still put on a content facade for the boy who was sitting across from him.

They hadn’t called it a date. Ash remembered that last time that happened Eiji seemed to be completely perplexed, somewhat alarmed, even, by the notion. They just chose to get together and talk, the same way they had a few days ago and a few times the previous week after the Central Park date— _no. Hangout, rendezvous, anything but date,_ Ash reminded himself. The very last thing he needed was to scare away the boy he was trying to make fall in love with him.

Either way, whatever it was, they were sitting in a café. Together. Eiji ordered some type of tea, and Ash ordered a baked good, though hunger wasn’t on his mind at all. In fact, the pit in his stomach made him feel as though eating wasn’t such a good idea. He sat there, untouched lemon cake still on his plate, tapping his gloved fingers against the wooden table as Eiji spoke.

Thirteen days.

Honestly, how he was going to pull this off, Ash didn’t know. _If_ he was going to pull it off, he didn’t know. But the warm gleam in Eiji’s eyes reassured him. It wouldn’t be impossible—just very, very difficult.

At least the wariness Eiji radiated when he was around Ash had gone away, replaced with something kinder. He didn’t ask so many questions, wasn’t so cautious—in fact, he hadn’t asked Ash about the gloves he’d worn every time they’d been out since the first time he mentioned them. It was as if they weren’t even there, as if it wasn’t usual that Ash hadn’t taken his gloves off when they got inside. It certainly wasn’t glove weather outside, either.

Still, Eiji didn’t ask. And after so many people in Ash’s life always demanded answers, not being pressured to explain felt both unfamiliar and incredibly refreshing.

“Ash?” Eiji’s voice reeled Ash back from his thoughts, the blonde raising his eyebrows in response. Eiji fiddled with the paper cup in front of him before meeting his eyes. “I feel like I don’t know enough about you.”

Ash sat up straight, contemplative. Granted, he didn’t share much. He _was_ more cryptic than not, and he imagined it was hard to fall in love when you were too confused about someone to. It was more than likely that he did owe Eiji some kind of explanation about _something_. 

“What do you want to know?”

Eiji smiled, tilting his head to the side a bit. “What do you want to tell me?”

Ash pondered over the words. He didn’t even know what to do with himself when he wasn’t directly asked something. After adjusting to holding his tongue when not spoken to over the years, this was . . . different. What _did_ he want to tell Eiji? What could he tell Eiji that wouldn’t make him pity or worry for him? 

Tapping his foot on the ground, the bone covered by the canvas of his Converse, he thought of the most lighthearted thing he could as Eiji lifted his cup of tea for another sip. Finally, not making eye contact with the boy across from him, Ash mumbled, “I’m afraid of pumpkins.”

Then Eiji was either laughing or coughing, maybe even both at one time. Between gasps for air, he apologized, hand going over his mouth when he settled down. His eyebrows raised as if to say _no way, you’re joking_ , but Ash nodded, flashing a tight lipped smile though he could feel the embarrassment stir in his stomach. “It’s true.”

“What? I mean—how? Why?”

“A real strange childhood.”

“Oh no,” Eiji frowned, but that glint from when he was smiling moments ago was still there. For a moment, Ash wondered what a genuine laugh from Eiji would sound like—as soft and melodic as his voice, probably. “Halloween is coming up. It must be a nightmare.”

“Believe me, it is. I have to shield my eyes from the pumpkins so I don’t lose it.”

Eiji bit back a grin, cheeks still flushed pink from his fit a few moments ago. Putting his chin in his hand, he gazed back at Ash. “That’s a sight I’d like to see.”

“Hm?” The sound, a confused hum, came out before Ash could even think about it. 

Eiji shrugged. “I don’t have plans for Halloween. Do you?”

 _Yes. Pray that what he was doing was enough. Hope that someone,_ anyone, _could love him. Pretend that he wouldn’t fade away when the clock struck twelve._

Despite himself, Ash shook his head. Slowly, at first, then a bit more confidently. “I don’t.”

“We should do something.”

Well, this was new.

Up until now, it had never been Eiji who initiated a—God, did Ash hate not calling it what it was— _meetup_. It was always Ash, calling and pestering Eiji to ask him to do something with him. At this point, it was partially to go along with the plan he had mapped out, partially to get himself out of the hellhole he called home, and partially to alleviate the undeniable loneliness that ate him alive in his darkest hours.

But here Eiji was, asking to do something with Ash. Asking to do something together.

“We should,” Ash agreed.

“Good. It’s a date.”

Eiji said it so nonchalantly, taking a sip of his tea again afterwards as if no words left his mouth at all. Blinking back at him, Ash let the phrase repeat in his head. 

_It’s a date. It’s a date. It’s a date._

That had to be a good sign.

Ash forked at his piece of cake, completely unable to help the smile that spread across his face. Not only because the phrase proved that his plan was moving along, but he was genuinely content because of the so-called date they had scheduled. He _liked_ being around Eiji. There was something about him.

When Ash looked back up, he saw Eiji softly smiling as well.

* * *

After Eiji bid Ash a farewell and began walking towards his house, Ash got into his car and headed in the opposite direction of his own home.

Even though he never managed to eat the small piece of cake he’d wasted a dollar and some change on (though he could hardly say the money was wasted since Eiji ate it after asking Ash if he was sure over and over when he offered it), he drove to a restaurant, taking deep breaths as he steered.

He was going to confess.

He didn’t know if it was against the rules. He didn’t know if there were any rules to the twisted curse at all, but it was a weight he needed to get off of his chest. The gloves were growing itchy around his skinless and fleshless fingers, and though they weren’t a pretty sight to see, he needed to tell someone. He needed some advice. If there was anything the last few weeks taught him, it was that it wasn’t easy to know you’re like a ticking time bomb, to count the days leading up to your death with double digits.

After sitting outside the restaurant Shorter asked him to meet him at for a few moments, watching his older friend—his only friend—sit at the outdoor table for two alone, Ash finally beeped his horn.

He was doing it. 

Shorter got up almost immediately, recognizing the car in an instant. His lips started moving as he walked towards the Maserati with crossed arms, but not enough that Ash could read them. He was probably complaining.

When Shorter opened the door and climbed in, Ash’s suspicions were confirmed. “Took you long enough. Five minutes, you told me. It’s been _twenty._ I got offered a free dessert because the owners thought I was stood up!”

It took everything in Ash to not shrug his shoulders and offer an apology he hardly meant like he usually would. Really, he owed Shorter a genuine explanation about why he had been so distant and why he left him waiting for. Ash knew it was the least he could offer.

“I’m sorry,” Ash said, as sincere as he could. “I was . . . out.”

Shorter kicked his sneaker-clad feet up on the dashboard, and Ash let him. His tone was teasing as he asked, “What do you mean by that? Were you out running errands for the old man or were you _out_ out?”

Ash let out a breath. He wouldn’t roll his eyes, wouldn’t make a snarky remark. “I was _out_ out.”

“ _Oh_.”

Before Shorter could go on, Ash subconsciously ran his fingers through his hair, the gloved extremity reminding him of why he was really here. Dropping any playfulness from his tone, he started, “Look. I need to talk to you about something.”

Shorter turned his head from the windshield, piercing shifting as he knitted his eyebrows together. “What?”

Ash unbuttoned one of his gloves, heart thumping in his chest. Shorter watched, eyes just barely visible through his sunglasses. When Ash pulled it off, like ripping off a bandaid, his heart slowed. 

It was as if the whole world just stopped.

“What the _fuck_?”

Before responding, he removed his other glove, then rolled up his sleeves to his elbow. It wasn’t all the bone that was exposed, but it was proof enough. Staring forward, hands at the bottom of the steering wheel, he muttered, “I have thirteen days.”

The boy at his side was evidently at a loss for words, but he managed to ask, “Thirteen days?”

“I’m being punished for not knowing love. It started with weight loss and paling . . . and now I’m wasting away.” Ash leaned his head back against the driver’s seat. “I have thirteen days to make someone fall in love with me, until Halloween night when the clock strikes twelve. If I don’t do it, I won’t make it to November. I found someone, and that’s who I was out with. That’s why I’ve been distant. I need this to work.”

“God,” Shorter breathed out, scratching the hair of his purple mohawk as he turned away. Turned away because of the bone, Ash realized. He yanked down his sleeves and pulled his gloves back on, but Shorter still didn’t look at him again. “Who is it?”

“I met him at some party Dino sent me to. He looked like he didn’t belong there. And he didn’t. It could be him, I think. But that doesn’t mean it will be.”

Finally, Shorter’s eyes averted back to Ash. They scanned over him, making Ash shiver. It was a look of assessment. A look he’d been given in many undesirable scenarios. He pulled himself back to reality before he could slip away, reminding himself of the truth; this was Shorter, and this look was out of real concern. 

After a few moments of silence, he asked the unimaginable. “What if it’s you?”

“What?”

“Ash,” Shorter said, reaching out to touch his friend’s half bone shoulder. His grip was delicate, as if he was scared to really touch him. Ash pretended he didn’t notice. “what if you fall in love?”

And Ash laughed.

Laughed at the outlandish idea and the little, little sense it made. “It can’t be me. Someone else needs to love _me_. That’s the point. I don’t even understand it. That’s why I’m here in the first place—”

“No one understands it. That’s why so many people get it wrong.” The small smile was wiped right off of Ash’s face. Shorter shrugged, continuing, “It seems like you want him to love you. Not just for this . . . this curse, but for you.”

Ash merely blinked back at him. Could that be possible?

“You have a lot of thinking to do. Just know this,” Shorter opened the door, dropping his feet from the dashboard to the ground. “I intend on seeing you next month. When all this is over.”

Ash nodded, convincing himself as well. They would see each other again. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Ash.”

When Shorter got out and closed the car door, walking to his motorcycle parked a few doors down after, Ash dwelled over his words. Could it be him? It wouldn’t help break the curse at all, but could he really rule it out?

At this point, he didn’t know. As he looked at himself in the mirror, green eyes wide, there was one thing he was sure of.

Things just got a hell of a lot more complicated.


End file.
